


The Apple Tree

by marimeetsmischief



Series: Miraculous Fairy-Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy AU, Kind of a Soulmate AU?, Love at First Sight, M/M, adrien agreste is easily impressed, ladrien, like ALL ladrien, lots of fluff, magic and shenanigans!, platonic alyadrien, platonic ninette, slight angst, some snow white vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimeetsmischief/pseuds/marimeetsmischief
Summary: In a forest of eternal snow, a strange apple tree grows. In its branches, a guardian dressed in red waits for someone who can set her free.(Fantasy and Fae AU, vaguely reminiscent of snow white. there is a plot, but it mostly consists of love.)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Series: Miraculous Fairy-Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607401
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	1. White as Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song “Apple Tree” by Marika Hackman.

Once upon a time, a snow-covered clearing that was hidden deep in the Winter Wood, there was an apple tree. No matter the season, perfect red apples dangled from eerie white branches, sheltered from the wind by deep, black leaves. 

There were a million different stories of the tree. It was cursed, or maybe blessed. If someone managed to pick the fruit, they might never be seen again. They could turn into another apple on the tree, or the branches would sweep them into the snow and they would fall right into the afterlife. 

No matter the story, everyone knew about the Guardian. She slept high in the branches of the tree, watching for anyone who came close to do who knew what. She was a witch, or a Faerie Queen, or a spirit of some kind, luring others to their demise. That was why the Winter Wood was largely avoided by most. No one knew exactly where the tree was, and no one wanted to accidentally stumble upon it. Well, almost no one. 

Adrien Agreste had been told before that he wasn’t exactly bright. This time around was no different, and he just shook his head at the accuser. “Yes, yes, I know that I’m a fool, Alya. But you’re the one who gave me the dare, and I’m not going to break my word.”

All Alya could do was wither under the look Adrien gave him. She had thought that the blonde wasn’t dumb enough to actually take it seriously, but instead they were standing at the edge of a glittering white forest.

“You know, for a place with some cursed tree, you’d think it would look scarier,” Alya remarked quietly, inching closer to the white trees. “Instead, it just feels... off.” 

Adrien nodded in agreement. That really was the only way to describe it. As far as he could see into it, it was almost like no shadows existed. Even if there hadn’t been snow blanketed on it all, every single tree was pure white, from root to leaf. When the snow was added in, it all seemed to glow. Sunlight refracted off of the snow in blinding brightness. His eyes caught on something in the distance, a flash of what might have been red, flitting out from behind a tree. Before he could think twice, he was moving forward, only to be stopped once again by a firm grip on his upper arm. 

“Are you sure about this, Agreste? Who knows what your dad would do if you never came back, and I for one do not want to find out.” Alya dropped her hand, crossing her arms in front of her. The glimpse of red slipped from his mind as Adrien hurried to wave off her concern. 

“Oh, come on, Cesaire, we both know you’re a hell of a lot more curious than I am. I can’t believe some white trees are scaring you off right now.” He laughed, grinning when she glared in return, punching his arm. “I’ll be back in no time, and we’ll make a whole apple pie with all these ridiculous apples.” After giving her a confident wink, he turned around to face the woods again, hopping over the fence with ease. He turned around one last time, giving her a thumbs up before stepping into the tree line. 

•••

Upon entry, Adrien was instantly aware of two things. First, the fact that the woods were not as cold as he thought they would be, or at all should be for the amount of snow on the ground. Second, he was entirely sure that he had to have entered some kind of separate world. He had taken maybe a dozen steps in, but when he turned around, the treeline had disappeared entirely, and he couldn’t even see a speck of the rusty orange of Alya’s dress anymore. Luckily, the snow seemed to hold his foot prints fairly well, so he pressed forward. 

There weren’t very many things in his life that he was passionate about lately. His father had a habit of making assumptions, or even worse, demands, about what Adrien should and shouldn’t be interested in. It had left him feeling separated and more than a little confused by life. Though, he supposed that was his father’s intention. If Adrien didn’t know anything about life, he couldn’t very well make his own, could he? 

It had been easier recently, though. Alya had arrived just as he had started to give up hope. She was just a kitchen girl in his household, but she had seen how cramped he was and had helped him take the first steps toward shaking off his ties. Even knowing that she was way too resourceful, he had bet her that she could never manage to sneak him out of the huge manor. And then, somehow, she had. Of course, he was never one to back down from a challenge, especially when he had given his word he would follow through. Even if now, he was unsure how he was supposed to carry a dozen supposedly magical apples back through the woods, let alone somehow find them. 

It felt like he had been walking for hours, though he had no idea how he was even supposed to tell. He couldn’t see the sky at all, but there was still the same amount of light as there was when he had stepped into the woods. Even worse, all of the trees looked practically identical, so he couldn't really estimate how much distance he had traveled. In every direction, no matter how far he strained to see, it was just layer after layer of pure white. Then he saw it again. That glimpse of something else. 

Without anyone to hold him back this time, he darted after it quickly while mentally convincing himself that chasing after something red in a magical snowy forest was somehow not a bad idea. As much as he ran, he never seemed to get any closer. The red flash would disappear from sight and he would slow down, only for it to reappear again in a slightly different direction. He would have thought he was being led in circles if his trail of prints hadn’t been there to show that he had mostly gone in one direction. 

Finally hitting exhaustion, he stopped, panting loudly and bending over to rest his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath again. He looked up, trying to see if the red was still there. It was almost impossible to figure out what it even was, since it was almost moving just out of sight. Trying to remember everything he could about the woods, he racked his brain for ideas. He knew plenty of stories of fair folk creatures that were red or could be, like red caps, or gnomes, or even wisps. None of those seemed to really fit this though. Whatever it was, it didn’t glow or flicker; it was solid looking but still somehow moved like water. 

For a few minutes, he waited for it to appear again, spinning on his heel to look for it in every direction. When all his searching yielded nothing, he sighed. Whatever it had been, it was fast, that was for sure. Never one to give up, he shook his head and turned in the direction he thought it had last been and started walking again. Maybe it was leading him to the tree, even if that was a tad too convenient for him to feel comfortable with. He had resigned himself to being entirely lost forever when it finally appeared again, much closer than it had ever been before. In fact, there were maybe only three or four trees between him and it, and he spurred himself forward again with excitement. 

“Wait, please!” he called out, and then immediately wanted to scold himself for trying to communicate with some strange forest spirit as if chasing it hadn’t been stupid enough. It was still in his sight by some miracle, though he did consider that that might be on purpose. He finally felt like he was gaining on it when he realized that the trees were coming to an end up ahead, which meant he had to be at the clearing. He crashed out of the tree line, stumbling over a snowbank and landing on his knees. 

He winced, his mouth drawing down into a frown as he stood up and dusted the snow off, knowing that he would be feeling that chill soon. All of his annoyance at that was quickly drowned out when his eyes met the massive tree trunk in the center of the clearing. Like all of the other ones, it was an otherworldly white, but this one seemed to be twice as big as all the others. His gaze followed the path of the trunk up to the canopy of foliage, leaves that were just as charcoal black as every story had claimed them to be. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, eyes wide and mouth to match. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. 

The red from before was nowhere to be seen, but he forgot all about it when faced with the red apples. Each and every one of them shone like polished jewels, with not a single blemish between the entire tree full. When he was close enough, he reached up, grasping at a low hanging fruit. It came off easily into his hand and he looked at it in amazement while anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. None of the branches seemed to move towards him, the ground hadn’t opened up, and there was no sign of the supposed guardian, so he tried to relax. Adrien tossed the apple between his hands, examining it before shrugging. Even if it was oddly perfect, nothing seemed horribly wrong with it, so he raised it to his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

Nearly dropping the fruit in shock, he looked up and barely caught a glimpse of a familiar red. Whatever it was was hidden high in the branches of the tree, and it was moving down through them with ease. 

“Who are you?” he asked quickly, starting to wonder if he should already be running. The voice, distinctly female he realized, mumbled unintelligibly before responding. 

“Who are you?” it asked, as if it was offended or maybe amazed he had said anything at all. 

“I’m Ad—,” cutting himself off with a cough, he shook his head, realizing what he had almost done. “I asked first,” he replied instead. He had just been thinking about fair folk stories, the first rule of which was to never give your name to a fae creature, and then he had almost gone and done it anyways. Maybe he really was an idiot. He noticed that the voice had gone silent, and instead all he could hear was the rustling of leaves as who or whatever it was moved through them. He could tell they were getting closer though, and tried to convince himself not to turn tail and run. 

He almost gave in when he heard the branches right above him shake, followed by a soft thud as something landed on the ground behind him. 

“I suppose that’s true,” the voice said, and he whipped around to face it — no, to face her — with his heart hammering in his chest. “Some call me the Red Lady.”

All he could think was that it was an accurate name. The first thing his eyes were drawn to was the blood red she was dressed in. The cloak itself wasn’t all that remarkable, even if the color was visually startling. Once his eyes adjusted to that, he glanced upwards in search of a face. 

The face he found was somehow surprising and expected at the same time. She was beautiful, which seemed accurate to the name fair folk, but she also seemed to be so young, maybe even younger than him. Still processing that shock, he tried to actually look at her. Her skin was pale, almost like the snow. Underneath her hood, he could see strands of hair, jet black like the leaves of the tree she had appeared from. 

“You’re the… the Guardian, right?” he mumbled quickly, trying to cover up for his staring. “They say that you guard the tree. And that you’re a witch.” He blushed furiously, slapping his hand over his mouth after saying the last word. If she was a witch, he was sure to be cursed now. 

He could only be surprised when instead, she laughed. He looked up at her, watching her lips pull into a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. Her eyes that were so blue, and unexpectedly so that he was sure he could get lost in them if only he—. Snapping himself out of it, he silently wished that he could make less of a fool of himself. 

She seemed to find his embarrassment funny at least, and took pity on him. “I wouldn’t call myself a witch, exactly, but I am the Guardian. And you’re the thief stealing fruit from my tree,” she added with a nearly predatory smirk, something like amusement glittering in her eyes. 

He blanched, quickly holding the fruit to her and bowing his head. If any of the stories to be believed, there were endless possibilities to what could happen to him. “I’m so very sorry, my lady, I didn’t think you were real.” 

She laughed again at that, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s yours now, thief. Once you pick it, you’re stuck with it. I still wouldn’t eat it though,” she added quickly, walking around him and back to the trunk of the tree. As she moved, his downturned head noticed with shock that she was actually walking around bare-footed in the snow. 

“Stuck with it?” He asked quickly, turning around to follow her. “And do you need boots? You’ll lose your toes to the snow if you walk around like that.” For a brief moment, he considered the fact that it couldn’t affect her because she was clearly some kind of forest spirit, but concern won out over common sense. 

“What snow?” she asked, looking surprised at his concern, and his face just mirrored hers at that response. He gestured around at the clearing, because it was obvious, wasn’t it? Then he turned to look around too, only to stop suddenly. He blinked. Then blinked again. The snow was all gone. Where all of the trees had been white before, and the ground covered in piles of snow, it was suddenly a perfect spring day. The grass was green again, and the trees in the woods behind him looked almost normal. The trunks were still white, but this time it was because they were birch trees, and not unnaturally discolored. 

“Where did it go? How-?” He turned back to her, his tone screaming his desperation for an answer. 

She still looked just as amused, and this time a little proud too. “It’s glamouring,” she began to explain, shrugging her shoulders like it was a casual thing to say. “Everlasting snow seemed like a good way to keep the humans out.” 

“But it felt so real?” He responded quickly, looking down at his knees. They weren’t at all damp from where he fell earlier, but he knew for a fact that he had seen his own footprints in the snow. 

She seemed to read his thoughts and nodded, understanding his confusion. “It’s fairly powerful magic, I’ll admit. It’s made to make you sense all the things you expect to. Since you’ve all been told that it’s the Winter Wood, there’s snow, and cold, and it all behaves like it would if it were natural.” 

Adrien wasn’t even sure how to begin to process what he was hearing. Even if he had grown up on stories of magic and fae, he had never expected to be faced with it. It didn’t matter that the woods were weird, it was just how they had always been, so it didn’t feel all that strange to him. This though, was unadulterated magic, and the shock hit him like a lightning bolt. The Guardian noticed, though, and quickly responded. 

“We should probably sit down, you seem like you might fall over.” 

He nodded numbly at her words and she sighed, reaching forward to grab his arm gently and lead him around behind the tree. There was a bench there, and a fire with a kettle hanging over it. The guardian sat him down on the bench and then busied herself with the fire, adding two logs until it was burning brightly again. She glanced over at him with concern, lifting the lid of her kettle to add some kind of plant in. He idly noticed that whatever it was smelled good, and that he was feeling more relaxed by the second. So magic actually existed. It wasn’t the most startling thing ever, was it? He lived next to a forest that he had believed to be full of snow that never melted, and had never even appeared to fall in the first place. The more he thought about it, the more he could console himself that this wasn’t as odd as it had initially felt. Magic was real. That almost felt worth celebrating. He looked up from his intent start at the fire, settling his eyes on the Guardian instead. 

“So…” he said awkwardly, trying to find something to bridge the silence. “What is this place, really?” 

She appeared thoughtful for a moment, her face scrunching in on itself while she considered what she could even truly say. “It’s a… gateway, of sorts, into the Great Wilds.” Before he could even ask it, she seemed to sense his next question, answering after she shook her head. “That’s where I come from, where all magic does, really. And no, it’s not typically accessible to humans, hence the Gate-Tree.” 

“Gate-tree?” He asked quickly, and then looked at the tree behind him, putting the pieces together. “It doesn’t really look like a gate though. And why does it have apples? You said something earlier about me being stuck with that apple but I don’t really get it.” 

It took her a moment to respond, obviously considering her words carefully. “They’re not just fruit, clearly. They can, depending on the person, function as a key of sorts. But it doesn’t always work as you think it might.” She paused again, looking like she was ready to be done talking about it. 

“But what does that mean? And why don’t you have answers that aren’t cryptic and creepy?” The second question slipped out unintentionally, and he quickly flinched back, raising his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean to be so rude, I’m sorry, please don’t turn me into an apple—,”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” she cut him off harshly with a glare to match. He gulped, closing his eyes and moving his hands in front of his face, like he was expecting some kind of retaliation. Instead, she started laughing at him again. This time, he was sure of it. Her laugh was positively musical, there was no doubt about that. Even if she was probably making fun of him now. 

“People who eat the apples aren’t always worthy of it. If the wrong person takes a bite, they could drop dead, or yes, turn into an apple.” She reached down, licking up the apple he hadn’t even realized was sitting at his feet. Had it actually followed him? “Magic doesn’t really work in specific and rational ways.”

“Oh. I think I understand, sort of.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, even if he did still have plenty of questions. The Guardian seemed like she couldn’t really tell him much, which made sense if she was supposed to be keeping humans away. Of course, when she just laughed again, he felt a little less sure. 

“Humans always think they can figure things out so quickly. Some things aren’t meant to be understood, summerling.” She shook her head at him, and stood up again, reaching for the kettle she had been heating. Walking over to the tree, she whispered something to her hand and then touched the trunk of it. Suddenly her hand was moving through the tree, and when she removed it, she had a small cup made of white wood sitting in her palm. She poured the contents of the kettle into the cup and then turned to him, holding it out. “Drink this.” 

He hesitated for a moment, not really sure what the proper protocol for this was. He had no idea what it was, but was refusing really an option? It was clear that she had more power than he could truly comprehend, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out how much. When he accepted that he didn’t have any better options, he took the cup from her and sipped it, surprising himself by finishing the whole cup almost at once. Whatever it was, it was sweet, and incomparable to anything he had ever tasted. As soon as he finished the cup, she took it from him and went back to the tree, seeming to somehow stow it away right where she had taken it from. 

She sat down next to him, and he turned to her, wanting to ask more questions. The problem was, he couldn’t seem to convince his mouth to cooperate, like his jaw had a mind of its own. When he tried to reach up to touch it, his hands didn’t cooperate either. The worst part was the girl in red next to him didn’t even seem surprised by it. Had she done this? All he could do was let his thoughts rush by him as he felt his consciousness slipping away. Her words were the last thing he heard. 

“I’m sorry, soul of mine.”

•••

When the blonde had drifted off completely, she sighed, gently laying him down on the bench. She couldn’t help but stare at him. All the years of waiting, of hiding in her tree as humans came and went, and he was finally here. She had never expected someone so beautiful, though. He looked like sunshine and summer incarnate, quite an opposite to her. 

“Are you sure about this, ‘Nette?” 

She nodded, looking up at the boy who had walked out of the woods. Like her, he was covered by a cloak that covered him completely, including a hood, though his was in a brilliant grass green. 

“It’s him, Nino. I can feel it.” Her tone was almost sad, and the loneliness that creeped out from underneath it was obvious to her friend. “I can only hope that he forgives me.”

•••

When Adrien woke up in his own bed the next morning, he had no memory of how he had gotten there, and only foggy ideas of the previous day. Visions of a red figure and brilliant white trees occupied his mind. When he finally was fully awake, he noticed the shiny red apple sitting on his bedside table and knew with far too much certainty that it was not to be eaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the first in a series of Fairy Tale re-imaginings for our well-loved characters. It is thoroughly planned out, and I’ve got it slotted for five chapters right now but it will definitely stay under ten. 
> 
> Majority of it will be pure Ladrien feeling FLUFF in a fantasy setting, inspired by old legends of the fair folk. Stick around folks!


	2. Red as Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will include more music! These three tracks will be labeled when they should be played! 
> 
> Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary  
> Dance of the Satyrs by Daemonia Nymphe  
> Marrakesh Night Market by Loreena McKennitt
> 
> Follow the “Apple Tree” playlist here:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/jem314/playlist/5uMdcPVqgfIJFMX1diyjos?si=YhG-D-xxShaUcVEdLo7e3Q

“I’m telling you, Alya, I really don't remember any of it! It’s all just bits and pieces.” Adrien shrugged for what felt like the millionth time as he dodged the onslaught of questions from his only friend.

“I cannot accept that. You literally walked in the woods and never came out but somehow reappeared in your own bed? And you aren’t even CURIOUS?” She had grown more and more frustrated with every denial and deflection he gave her. There was no way he just didn’t actually remember. “I’m half convinced you’re some kind of changeling now, and it’s going to take a lot to disprove that, Agreste… or Not-Agreste, whatever you are.”

“I am still myself, thank you very much, Alya.” Grimacing, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to explain it in a way that would get the brunette off his back. “Look, I am curious. Of course I am! All I remember is the snow and this figure in a red cloak, honestly.”

She still looked skeptical, of course, but those details seemed to appease her a little. At least, he hoped they did. “Do you think that red person was the… yanno, guardian?” 

“I don’t know who else it could be, so that’s what I assume.” Standing up, Alya stretched her legs out before beginning to pace anxiously back and forth. They had been sitting on the ground for nearly an hour now, tucked in a dark corner in one of the unused gardens in the estate. It wasn’t unusual for them to hide out here, since Adrien’s father had already shown disapproval at him forming any kind of bonds with persons that hadn’t been thoroughly reviewed before hand. Muttering to herself, Alya stopped to pick up the mysterious apple that had been the entire purpose of yesterday’s adventure. 

“And other than all of that, you just know we aren’t supposed to eat the apple? Not even a why?” She turned it over and over in her hands, examining it for any possible clues or abnormalities. Adrien groaned and shook his head, which just made her sigh, exasperation overcoming her curiosity for a moment. Abruptly, she stopped and turned to look at him, a growing grin on her face. “Well then, obviously we have to go back, together this time.”

“Are you crazy? Can’t we just call it luck that I got away this time and leave it at that?” Even if he had been determined yesterday, the idea of going back to a place that most people called cursed just made him way too uneasy. 

“Adrien Agreste, it is not just LUCKY that you walked away from that! There is no way that a mysterious person called a Guardian literally let you steal fruit and leave for no reason. In fact, I would bet you that they were the reason you ended up back here with no memory.” She smirked victoriously, as if she had just put together all the puzzle pieces and was waiting for her prize — or rather victim, unfortunately for him. 

He shook his head, wildly and rapidly as he hurried to get to his feet and attempt to leave. Seeing him ready to flee, she darted in front of the gate that led the way out. “Oh come on, Alya, you can’t be serious. As if I would ever make another bet with you.” 

“Fine then, no bet. But I’m still going into those woods, tomorrow night. With or without you, coward.” She huffed loudly, holding the apple out to him and standing aside. 

•••

“How do I keep getting myself dragged into these things?” he groaned quietly, watching Alya climb over the wall in front of him. He was torn between calling himself an idiot and being proud of him for stepping out of his comfort zone. Alya had already gotten him to ditch quite a few official duties, but this was the first time he had slipped out when he was supposed to be asleep. 

He wasn’t even sure how she had managed it. She had just shown up at his room, with the guards somehow gone, and then dragged him down the hallway to a servants passage. And now, he was boosting her over the garden wall and then using a trellis to get himself over. Maybe he was brave, maybe stupid, but either way, he was definitely losing his mind. 

Once they were over the wall, she led him towards the brush at the edge of the property, along the road that led into town, and right to the edge of the Winter Wood. It didn’t take them long, and the full moon overhead provided almost a little too much light, almost giving them away to a pair of soldiers patrolling the road. After they recovered from that near panic attack, they hurried themselves up until they reached the fence around the wood. 

Alya, ever the fearless investigator, hopped over it and stepped into the trees without a second thought. Adrien however, was frozen, stuck in his tracks as he got the strangest feeling of familiarity. Stronger than from just being there days before, and almost like he had done it dozens of times. 

Hurrying himself to catch up to Alya, who was rapidly disappearing in the treeline, he climbed over and jogged into the trees without wasting another second in fear of getting separated. As soon as he stepped under the winter white trees, the odd sensation of being watched started to seep into his mind. Trying to ignore it, he grabbed onto Alya’s brown cloak and made sure she wasn’t too far away. She gave him a look, obviously mildly annoyed and confused, to which he just shrugged. If she wasn’t feeling the same way he was, he didn’t exactly feel like freaking her out by mentioning it. He dropped the fabric bunched in his hand and she shook her head, starting to walk again and he followed close behind.

> *This next section has MUSIC! Tracks are shown with asterisks!*  
>  *Dance of the Druids” - Bear McCreary*

The longer he spent under these branches, the more Adrien felt like there was something about them that poked and prodded in the depths of his memory. The whole wood felt like a foreign world, which it may as well have been, but it still wasn’t frightening. It was hard to even really voice all of that to Alya, because she would probably call him insane, and to be honest, she would probably be right. Most normal people didn’t wander into clearly magical woods and find themselves feeling at peace. 

Just as he started to question himself even more, he crashed into Alya’s stopped form. As he started to question her, she swatted at him, pointing and gesturing excitedly at something between the trees in front of them. He looked up, trying to follow the path of her hand and not seeing anything notable. 

“I don’t see anything, Alya,” he whispered as softly as he could, bending down to ear level. 

“I swear, I saw a flash of green. Like, brilliant, grass green.” 

“Wait, green? Not red? I was sure I remembered seeing red…” he responded quietly, looking around them for any sign of red. With so few memories of that day, he had been absolutely positive that he remembered a figure in a red cloak, not a green one. Noticing that she hadn’t responded to his comment, he turned back around, only to find her gone. “Alya!” 

Somehow, there was no sign of her, not even the slightest footprint. Worse, he couldn’t remember which direction she had pointed in, so if she had followed whatever she saw, he didn’t know which way to go. Then, he saw it. Red, just a flash that came with a tangible feeling of deja vu. Hesitating for only a moment, he started to walk in that direction. As soon as he started to step that way, the red appeared again, a much longer flash than before. He picked up his pace in response. Suddenly there was a whole figure standing a moderate distance from him, draped in red from head to toe. The figure turned to face him, and although he couldn’t see them under the shadow of their hood, they had to have seen him. Before he could react, they were running again, and he tore off after them. 

The figure darted and weaved in between the trees effortlessly, always ten steps ahead of him. They were stepping and twirling through the woods in a choreographed dance that Adrien had forgotten to learn the steps to, and they were starting to outpace him. Every step of theirs took almost two of his, every tree root that they glided over, he stumbled on. The further he was led on, the less and less he could think of anything else. He had to catch up to them, somehow. When it looked like they were going to completely outrun him, he desperately made one last push, only to watch them leap out of the treeline like a wild animal. 

He reached the same spot only a few moments after, and came tumbling out into an open clearing. As soon as he set eyes on the large tree in the center of it, something in his head ached for a moment and then fell away, leaving behind more spotty memories of the apple tree and a roaring fire with a pot of tea over it. Shaking off the remnants of disorientation, he looked around the clearing, trying not to be confused with what he saw. The snow had vanished, and when he questioned it, something seemed to coax the memory from his mind. Still confused, he looked around and his eyes were swept up by a group of figures all dressed in white. They stood a little distance away from the tree, circling and stepping around each other gracefully. The more he watched, the more he got the feeling that this was something private and sacred, not even meant for human eyes. 

They hadn’t seemed to notice him, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or not. He started to get to his feet, trying to decide what to do. The obvious choice was to turn around, but something at the back of his mind urged him toward the circle of otherworldly figures. Not sure why, he shambled towards them. His hearing started to pick up slow drumming, low but slowly building. The figures were starting to move differently now, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself anymore. Suddenly there was a pull on his arm and he turned to see a girl with long and loose blonde hair in a white dress and matching mask standing behind him.

> ** “Dance of the Satyrs” - Daemonia Nymphe **

“You’ll need this,” she said with a knowing smile, holding out a white mask to him. He reached out to it without even thinking, and slid it over his eyes and tied it on. As soon as the knot was secure, he felt a tremble sweep through him, and when he looked down, his cloak was gone and replaced by a white outfit just like the others in the clearing. He looked up again, but the blonde was already walking to the circle. 

He followed her, trying to ignore the cautious warnings at the back of his mind. The music was swelling now, flutes and voices beckoning him closer. Before he could comprehend it, he had been swept into the circle by people who were now dancing spiritedly. The same fair-haired girl who had given him the mask now took his hand, starting to lead him around the circle. At first, he stumbled carelessly, not sure what he was doing or how he was supposed to be moving. Just as he started to feel like he could understand some of the rhythms, he was being spun away, and instead a purple haired girl was leading him through different steps. She smiled at him beneath the mask, giving his hand a light squeeze. Even if he was shocked by her, it still felt reassuring, and he tried to relax. He quickly found that the less he thought about moving, the easier the moving was. Letting go of his hesitation somehow, he gave himself over to the music and let himself be passed around. The dancers didn’t seem to communicate in any way he could understand, and they didn’t seem to have any set rules either. Every person who led him around moved differently from the last, and he lost track of how long he had spent dancing in circles between them. He counted his time in people instead; a tiny blonde girl, a slim red headed boy, an athletic brunette, a quick footed girl with pinkish hair, and soon he had danced with what had to be all of them. 

He spotted the first blonde drawing closer and thought that they were going to repeat the cycle, only to be spun around into the arms of a new figure. In his shock, he stumbled over his own feet and towards the dark haired girl. Surprisingly, she caught him with ease and kept him from crashing to the floor. He looked up to thank her and froze instantly. The color of her eyes crashed into him like a violent wave, stirring memories out of him again. Deep and blue like the clearest water he had ever seen, those eyes lit up in recognition of him as well. 

“Hello again, summerling,” she purred softly, and his heart jumped up to his throat in the most thrilling way. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from hers, even when he knew he had been staring at them for far longer than reasonably necessary. She laughed softly at the open mouthed expression on his face, gently righting him onto his feet again. Only then did he manage to tear his eyes away, blushing furiously as he started to realize what was going on. Quickly trying to steady his uncooperative limbs, he stepped back from her, trying to find the right words. 

“I’m… uh, my apologies, my lady,” he mumbled hurriedly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He looked down at the ground, willing himself to avoid looking at her eyes again. It was the oddest thing, that he kept finding himself drawn to them. 

“Don’t worry yourself,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head. “The first dance can be a little… disorienting. We’ve all been there too.” He looked up at her again and she offered a small smile, the tiniest pink flush starting to appear on her cheeks.

“First dance?” 

She nodded, a little twinkle shining in her eyes at his confusion. “I’m glad you found your way back, summerling,” she said softly. The warm look in her eyes was overpowering, and he had to look away quickly before he lost his composure anymore. She coughed, clearing her throat against the awkward silence. The music that had been there was stopped now, and all of the dancers had seemed to separate into smaller groups or pairs, talking in hushed whispers. She noticed the way his eyes darted around between it all, and sighed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” she added, the blush on her cheeks more prominent. “I’ve never done this before, so it’s a little strange.”

“Done what?” he asked, quickly turning back to face her with wide eyes. He tried to put together all the pieces in his head, and the more he did, the more concerned he grew. “Am I some sort of sacrifice? Because I’m really not the most ideal option for that, my father would go a little insane.”

She laughed suddenly, shaking her head at his words. “Not a sacrifice. I’ll explain everything, soon. But first, it’s time for the test,” she said with a grin forming on her lips. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him back towards where the other dancers from before were now gathered around a large archway, woven from branches and leaves. They stood in a circle around it, and she guided him into an empty space in the ring. Then she seemed to vanish, flitting off so quickly out of his view. When she returned, she had an unlit torch in hand. Meeting his eyes for a moment, she smiled, and then looked at the torch. It sprang to life with flames of pure white light, and his eyes widened.

She walked around the whole circle, carefully and measuredly, like she was counting steps in a waltz. When she had gotten back to the place she started, she turned to the archway. Leaning forward, she touched the bottom of one side with the torch, and the woven arch quickly lit on fire in the same flames as the torch had. She trailed the torch along the path of the archway, and the fire crawled along behind her hand, never falling behind or creeping ahead. As she reached the opposite end of the arch, the whole thing grew brighter and brighter until he had to shield his eyes with his arm. The light lowered again, and when he dropped his arm, the center of the arch was now filled with a curtain of the eerie white flames. The torch had disappeared from her hand, and he watched her start to move around the circle again, this time in an undoubted dance. Facing the center of the arch from in front of him, she glanced over her shoulder to meet his eyes, and winked. Then, before he even knew what she was doing, she twirled directly into the curtain of flames.

> ** “Marrakesh Night Market” - Loreena McKennit **

The archway slowly started to brighten again, and this time, a red pinprick of light started in the center of the arch, growing outward until the flames around the whole structure were alight with a vibrant red. A swelling drum beat followed behind the color, accompanied by a voice that sounded entirely otherworldly. The voice grew louder, until a figure came spinning from around the other side of the flames. 

Even with her ruby mask, the second he met her eyes, he knew it was the same girl as before. Now, she was draped in gossamer red, glittering fabric that looked as alive as the flames did. Her voice soared over the music and the roaring of the flames, completely entrancing him. Each word and note she sang seemed to sail directly into his mind, and even when she was out of sight, it was just as clear. When she danced back around, he noticed the flames had turned white again. That didn’t last long, as someone stepped through them from the side opposite him, and the flames were tinted into grass green. 

The boy looked at him, grinning knowingly beneath his green mask. Darkly tan skinned with shoulder length locs of dark brown hair, the green shone against them in the moonlight. Adrien blinked rapidly, fighting to understand what was happening, and how white clothes were going into fire and coming out in colors more vibrant than anything he had ever seen. Then, the boy was gone, disappearing back around the archway in the same dance as the girl in red. 

The girl right next to Adrien stepped forward, the same  
blonde who had given him the mask. She passed through the flames with no hesitation, and they glowed gold behind her. He waited for her to appear again, and she did, magically dressed in a flowing yellow-gold gown. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a smirk, continuing to dance around the circle. The three figures who had gone through stepped and twirled around each other with ease, seeming to anticipate exactly where they would meet. It was hypnotizing, and only grew more so as more and more of the dances joined the circle, dressed in the brightest of colors. 

The girl with dark purplish hair emerged from the flames in swathes of rich purple and magenta fabrics, and a small blonde followed soon after in lovely pink shades, and the pair danced around each other delicately. A tall boy stepped through from his side and reappeared soon after in liquid bronze and gold. After him, a smaller boy in dark brown stepped through, following the first with a small smile. Then it was the teal haired boy, whose clothes now matched his hair. A red haired girl came out with light brown and white skirts. A dark haired girl passed through and her dress turned a deep wine red. The other red head, the boy, joined them with his clothes now turned into orange and yellow. A small girl in grey and pink was followed by a towering boy in navy blue and indigo. Then the girl with pinkish hair appeared dressed in light blue. Just when he thought he had counted all of them, and the circle was as full as it could get, the flames turned orange and another figure stepped out. 

She turned to him, and he froze, almost instantly recognizing the brown hair that faded into an orange-red. “Alya! Is that you?” he tried to call over the music, seeing if he could catch her attention. If she heard him, she didn’t show it, and instead swept herself up into the circle of dancers. Suddenly, he felt a hand in his, and he turned to his side to see the lady in red, gesturing him forward. She let go of his hand, singing still as she backed away from him. He felt himself stepping forward, though he wasn’t sure why or how. He didn’t even know that he could make his legs work, but he was somehow walking toward the arch way. Every time he slowed, another dancer was there to usher him onwards with a little shove or a gentle nudge. He found himself standing right in front of the white flame curtain, feeling the heat from it start to make him sweat. He looked back, trying to get someone, anyone to pull him back. Locking onto her blue eyes, he pleaded silently, and she just smiled, continuing her vocalization as she watched him. 

Fighting himself, he looked back to the flames and tried to make himself step back. Instead, something deep in him reached out and urged him forward. The flames suddenly weren’t daunting anymore, and he was filled with a sense of knowing, sure that he this was something he had done a million times before. Before he could sink back into doubt, he stepped through the flames and felt something wash over him. 

Halfway between calm and absolutely buzzing with electricity, he stepped out on the other side. He looked down at his clothes, now black with accents of the most luminescent green he had ever seen. Somehow, it felt… familiar. When he stepped into the circle of dancers, his feet carried him instinctually, sweeping him through the steps. When he moved in a turn and caught a glimpse of the arch, the flames danced in a toxic green. The next time he turned to face them, they were white again, and they flickered and jumped in rhythm with the whole circle. A hand slipped into his again, and the girl in red was back, holding onto him as she danced dizzying circles around him, her voice as clear as the sky above. Everything about her felt like magic, even more powerful than the archway and the music and the dancing. Her hand in his felt like pure energy, and he accepted it readily, giving himself over to it. Instead of giving something up, it felt like gaining total freedom. 

They circled each other in a careful choreography, every step perfectly timed to the steady drum beat. He locked his eyes onto hers, and it was a heady, raw feeling. Like a connection had suddenly sprung open, he could somehow feel waves of emotion from her, bouncing back and forth between them both. Even when they weren’t touching, it felt like they were, and he was constantly aware of just how close she was, the brushing of her shoulder to his arm, his elbow to her side, her hair sweeping across his back, his hand sliding over her waist. It was taunting, so close and so far away, never enough and still too much. It was like he was dancing with the source of all life itself, and she was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. 

Suddenly he felt himself stopping, facing her as the music silenced itself. They were both panting, drops of sweat glistening in moonlight and firelight. Her eyes were set on him, gazing into the deepest reaches of his soul. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, bodies flush against each other and eyes locked in a stare. Finally, she smiled up at him and it was like seeing the sun shine for the first time. Even though she had smiled before, this was something entirely different, especially when he felt like he had a direct connection to her raw emotions. 

She stepped back slowly, still breathing heavily. He reached out before she got to far, grabbing her hand. Leaning forward in a bow, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently, glancing over her hand to meet her eyes. Her cheeks turned bright pink under her mask at the gesture and he smiled, releasing her hand as he stood up again. She looked at her hand intently, her eyes slipping between it and him, and then she shook her head, turning away. 

Moving to stand in front of the arch again, she raised her arms, getting close to the white flames at the very top of the arch. Then she trailed her arms down the sides and the flames dissipated under her hands without so much as a puff of smoke. When the flames were completely gone, she sighed, smiling slightly, then turned to the others and nodded. They smiled in return and broke away into the same small groups and pairs as before. Then she turned to him, walking over again. 

“Alright, summerling. It’s time we talked.”

•••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you didn’t mind the music! I find that it helps set scenes in my memory much better, and I like to include it in case anyone is interested! The next chapter will start to give real answers, I promise. Thank you for reading!


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